


Misanthropy Is A Common Disease

by k2_b0



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff sometimes, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), This is aimless but still, but not entirely ok, chapter one & the prolouge will be posted at the same time lol, chapter one has a ton of pagebreaks bc im sleep, i just desperately wanted to write this au im sorry, promo for my sideblog is in here, ships aren’t in there yet but they’re comin no worries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-18 06:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16989594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k2_b0/pseuds/k2_b0
Summary: The survivors wake up. Then the rest, and together they learn to live.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> new wip that im unprepared to write.. but i really wanted to so hehe

  _Click._

_“Hello, my name is █████ ████, and I’ll be auditioning for season fifty-three of Danganronpa today.”_

_A girl sat on her knees in the middle of an empty room, a blank smile on her face. Blue hair was pulled up into a bun upon her head, and glasses were perched plain on her face, hiding tired blue eyes. She tapped her manicured fingers on her thighs, nails painted a shiny red._

_She gave a nod to the rolling camera in front of her. “Without dragging it on too long, I’m going to get straight to the point.” Her eyes grew determined and her fists curled up on her lap. “I’m auditioning for the role of the mastermind.”_

_“I’ve been in love with Danganronpa from the very first season, from the first time that Naegi Makoto stepped onto the ground of Hopes Peak and entered the killing game. From the first time Enoshima Junko conducted the murders of her classmates.” The girl adjusted her glasses and took a shallow breath._

_“I can write scripts, characters, storylines... anything that needs to be done to make a good season. I guarantee, I will revive this series and turn it into something you’ve never seen.”_

_The girl closed her eyes and sighed out before curving her lips into a placated smile. Then she stood up and dug through a bag offscreen. Right in front of the camera she began to slowly undress, pulling her leggings to the floor and and winding her hair into a wig cap. One by one the pieces of her outfit fell to the floor, and one by one her new look came together._

_No longer was she sporting a blue-haired bun with plain glasses to hide her eyes, no, not at all. Instead, her hair fell back in thick strawberry-blonde locks, bound up into twintails by monochrome pins shaped like bears. Her tired eyes held a new energy, making the blue of them seem more bright. The school uniform she’d been sporting beforehand had been replaced by a black cardigan and white shirt, unbuttoned for her cleavage to show. A red miniskirt clung to her hips, and the skin of her legs trailed down to shiny, ebony boots with red laces._

_Her soft smile went sharp, and her eyes narrowed into something cruel, lashes thick and blanketing over her irises. Make-up that was unnoticeable before now stood out like sunlight during the nighttime._

_She gave a low laugh. “I think I lied, actually,” she snickered, “Danganronpa is more than something I love. It’s my everything! Ive cosplayed every character in the series, from those like Fujisaki to Mechamaru! Even Hachimaru from season thirty-two! It was sooooo hard to get them right, too! You remember the design!” She pointed at the camera harshly, then dropped her hand and played with a bit of her hair dejectedly._

_“Of course, it all comes down to your choice. But the role of the mastermind is something that I’ve always wanted to have, and I’ve spent my whole life working for it.”_

_Her expression turned genuine again, and her red lips curved to another grin. “Please consider me for this season. If I make it in, I swear to you—”_

_Her blue eyes caught the red light from the camera, the shine of it flashing across them as she leaned forward. She reached towards the lens, preparing to turn it off._

_“—I will become the change that Danganronpa needs.”_

_Click._

And the story begins.


	2. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conflict arrives.

_Nothing_.

Hands gripped at numb shoulders and breasts, applying touch anywhere they could. Buzzing rang in the background, filling a black void with a music that stung unseeing eyes. Footsteps hit the floor, drowned out by voices and a constant high beeping.

 _There’s_ _nothing_ _here_.

“Contestant twelve is unresponsive, permission to begin resuscitation?”

 _Why_ _is_ _there_ _nothing_ _here?_

“Permission granted.”

 _Why_ _is_ _there_ _nothing_ _here?!_

“Clear!”

A shock ran through the empty numbness, and the buzzing ceased to exist. Again and again, electricity blossomed thick above and below a body’s breasts, jerking it about. A burning started to fill leaden veins, and without warning a light filled those empty eyes; a scream broke from a closed up throat—

Shirogane Tsumugi rose from the dead, with nothing to gain or lose in turn.

* * *

 

“It was all... fake?”

Saihara clenched his fists on his lap and breathed in heavily. Panic was running through his veins, but what drowned it out the most was—

 _Nothing_.

He felt afraid. He felt anxious. But most of all... he felt empty. Like the world had just blanked out around him, crumbling down into an open abyss right beneath his feet.

The Team Danganronpa employee in front of him opened their palms and laughed nervously. It echoed in the room, devoid of anything other than them and the four chairs they were using. “Not quite,” they chuckled, “it was real in the sense that you and your classmates truly participated in the killing game. But in the terms of physical deaths? Yes, it was all... ‘fake’.”

Yumeno gripped at her cardigan from beside Saihara. She was standing on her own piece of rubble, tottering on the edge. “So we won?” She warbled. “We won the killing game?”

“No shit we did,” Harukawa croaked. “We aren’t stuck inside those pods, are we?” The word came out like poison on her tongue, and the employee winced.

“Now, now,” their hands folded on their lap and they gave a soft smile. “Winning is a good thing! Not only do you get the prize money, you also didn’t die! Isn’t that a reward in itself?”

 _No_ , _it’s_ _really_ _fucking_ _not_. The thought made Saihara grit his teeth, keeping the comment in. The deaths of his friends wasn’t a reward. _Isn’t_ , a reward. Momota’s supernova burning out in front of him, Kiibo blowing into smithereens for their sakes, Akamatsu swinging limp by a noose after being killed for a crime she didn’t commit. Simulated or not, they _happened_. And they weren’t rewarding in the least.

He released the clench of his jaw. “When will they be waking up.” It wasn’t a question.

A sigh pulled from the employee’s lips. “I knew you’d ask something like that.” They stood up and swiveled their torso, stretching their back. “It all depends. Don’t expect it to be all at once, but... and this is a secret, okay?” Laughter dropped from their tongue, and Saihara felt the urge to rip it out. “I’ve heard that the team has a new plan in action. So they’ll probably get everyone together within a day or—“

A ringing cut their words off short, and the employee reached up to their earpiece, holding a finger to shush the already quiet survivors. “Hello? Oh, yes, I’m with them.” Another voice spoke on the other line, muffled, and the employee started to tap a foot on the floor. “Already? Yes, I understand that you want to get it started but... yes, of course. I’ll inform them immediately.”

Saihara straightened his back out, and Harukawa‘s gaze lifted up. Even Yumeno managed to stop pulling at the buttons on her cardigan to pay attention. The employee grinned at them. “Guess what?” They asked, not waiting for a response. “Your wishes have already been granted! They just woke up the first student!”

Yumeno jumped up. “Who was it?! Was it Tenko? It has to be! Her fighting spirit let her wake up first!”

Harukawa followed suit, furrowing her brow. “No way, it was definitely Momota! He’d never make us wait!”

Saihara sat still, picking at the sleeves of his sweater. He hoped it was Akamatsu, deep inside, but knew that it probably wouldn’t be. After all, if it’s Team Danganronpa doing the reviving... then there’s a likely option for who it is.

“It’s neither,” the Team member in front of them said, crushing the two girl’s hopes. “Our first choice had to be someone who with less a chance of waking up as time passes. Chabashira-sama and Momota-sama both died of smaller wounds.”

The black-haired boy sitting between the girls swallowed thickly, already knowing the answer to his own question. “Who... Who is it?”

“Why, it’s Shirogane-sama! She died with an unbeatable intensity!”

Saihara hates when he’s right.

Harukawa stomped her foot, reminiscent of a child throwing a tantrum. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” She spat. “You woke up that bitch before Momota?! Even _Ouma_ would’ve been better than her!”

The employee tapped a finger on their lip. “Ah, Ouma-sama had a fairly intense death too, didn’t he...” They mused, ignoring the brunette’s outburst. Then they walked to the door and left, locking it behind them without a word.

 _How_ _sudden_ , Saihara thought, and then, without warning, Yumeno burst into tears. She pulled her knees up into her chest and sobbed into them, pulling at her hair. “Not fair,” she wailed, “it’s not fair! Why did this have to happen?! I don’t even have the mana to get us out!!”

Harukawa slammed her foot into the employee’s empty metal chair, kicking it over with ease. Her hair had been cut short because of complications during the simulation’s removal process, and it bounced across her shoulders with every angry stomp. Her rage whirled across onto Yumeno, who had only started crying louder at the noise. “Shut up!” She screamed, clenching her fists. “God, just shut up already! We know it’s not fair, you don’t have to be a baby about it!” In response, more tears came to the redhead’s eyes, and Harukawa’s expression twisted even further.

Saihara closed his eyes and breathed in. His head was starting to hurt from all of the commotion. “Harukawa-san, that’s enough...” he said weakly. Immediately, Harukawa turned on him, red eyes angry.

“You shut up too!” She growled, and Saihara slumped over. There was no use arguing, but the girl kept talking nonetheless. “You keep acting like you’re depressed or something! It’s pissing me off!”

Saihara scoffed tiredly and rolled his eyes. “And you’re acting like a raging maniac. Looks like those personalities are kicking in, huh?” Self-loathing filled the last words, and he gave a wry smile. “Just sit down and wait for them to come get us.”

Harukawa faltered before throwing herself back down into her chair. Then, she scooted away from Saihara and crossed her arms. Whatever made her relax, he guessed.

He couldn’t really blame her for being upset, though. In his own way, he was too. Finding out that it was just a simulation, finding out that he was willing... it was terrifying. Just like in the sixth trial, everything had fallen apart right in front of him. It was all a lie on top of a lie. And after failing them he had to face his classmates? The thought was unbearable.

Yumeno’s crying had subsided into hiccups by the time the door opened again, and a new doctor stepped in with an exhausted look on her face. “Hello, survivors,” she said, the word survivors sounding a little too detached, “let me direct you to your room.”

Room. Singular. They would be staying together overnight, then. The doctor gave them a sad look and ruffled a hand through her curly, black hair. “Look,” her other hand held tight at a clipboard by her side and tapped nervously at it, “I’m sorry about all this. I know it’s probably hard for you. But... where you’re going next will be a good place for recovery. No freaky, lab coat wearing maniacs there.” She stopped them in front of a plain looking door that was painted white. “Here’s your room. Someone will check in on you tomorrow and let you know what’s going on.”

The heels of her shoes clacked as she walked away, skirt swaying, and Harukawa clicked her tongue to break the silence. “Try not to touch me while you’re asleep,” she said, and with that she swung the door open and marched in. It was just as plain on the inside, with three futons laying in a row. At least they’d been given a place to sleep.

There were no bedclothes, so the three of them took their spaces and sat there to take in the silence. Yumeno laid down on hers quietly, pulling the cover up above her head. Not a moment later Harukawa did the same thing, leaving Saihara to sit with the covers around his waist, staring at the wall.

 _Welcome_ _back_ , _contestant_ _sixteen!_

He cradled his head in his hands as the memory of waking up flooded back. He had crawled out of a liquid-filled pod completely naked, doctors on his every side. It had been so confusing in the moment. And even more confusing now. Falling back, exhaustion overtook him like frost in winter.

He just hoped that everyone would be fine.

* * *

 

The morning came like any other. Which is strange, because it’s not like any other. It’s the first morning after finding out his friends aren’t actually rotting corpses in a prison school.

But the sun still rises, even when your world is falling apart, he supposed.

In the futon next to his Yumeno was curled up and breathing evenly, looking a little too much like Yonaga did on the floor of her lab. It took Harukawa throwing something at his face for him to realize that the third space over was empty with the covers strewn about. He craned his neck up to look at the brunette, who gave him a heavy shrug. “Morning,” she said flatly, and Saihara gave her a nod in return.

“Good morning.” He yawned, and started to stand up, joints cracking. He stretched out and gave Yumeno a glance. “Should we wake her up?”

“The doctors will do it,” Harukawa said, and pointed towards his feet. There were clothes there, wadded up and wrinkled. He picked them up and gave them a once over, grimacing at what they were. A black shirt with a Monokuma logo printed over it and a pair of cargo shorts. To be fair, it’s something he would’ve worn back before the game. But now... Harukawa snorted at the look on his face. “Don’t feel bad about those pieces of shit. Just look at me.”

She was dressed in a fairly similar shirt, but hers had another thing printed above it. # _MomoHaru_ was displayed in white ink right above the bear head, and Saihara couldn’t do anything but wince. Her skirt was red and white, and she had stockings on that reached halfway up her thighs. “I look like a damn fangirl,” she sighed. “MomoHaru is our... ship name, I guess. Like KomaHina.”

Saihara nodded at her with sympathy. “I used to ship that pretty hardcore,” he laughed quietly, “Now I feel kind of bad about it.”

Harukawa smiled mirthlessly at him. “Me too. Oh, and you can go out there to get dressed, or just do it in here. That’s what I did.”

“Will you... turn around, then?”

By the time he was done dressing, Yumeno rolled over and opened her eyes. She stared up at the ceiling, then slid her gaze to Harukawa, who had leaned herself up against the window to look out into the early morning darkness. The redhead sat up and ran a hand through her messy hair. “Mm, Mornin’.”

“Morning.” “Good morning, Yumeno-san.” Both of them spoke at the same time, and they exchanged a look. Yumeno gave a nod and pushed herself up, only to get a face full of clothing, just like Saihara had. She didn’t even ask them to look away before starting to undress, but they averted their eyes out of courtesy even so.

“So, what’s goin’ on?” The shortest of them asked after getting her clothes on. A white, Monokuma-themed shirt hung from her shoulders. The skirt that she was wearing was solid black.

“We’re just... waiting,” Saihara said, almost to himself. There wasn’t anything keeping them from leaving other than a total lack of will to go. _Even_ _if_ _we_ _did_ _try_ _to_ _run_ _away_ , what would the point be? His thoughts murmured logic in his mind. _If_ _we_ _ran_ _away_ , _wouldn’t_ _we_ _just_ _be_ _caught_ _immediately?_

Yumeno rolled her shoulders and leaned back against the wall, with Saihara and Harukawa staying where they were. They didn’t move an inch until a doctor came in to bring them to the cafeteria, where their undecided future awaited.

They walked down a long hallway, everything around them white. The windows were open and blowing in cold air, and the doctor dragged them through the doorframe that led to their friends.

Seeing them again was more jarring than he’d expected.

Saihara’s legs bent in at the knees and he wobbled forwards, hitting the floor because Harukawa and Yumeno were too shocked to catch him. It was like an electric shock directly to his spine. Like getting hit from behind with a metal bat that was wrapped in barbed wire.

The doctor who had led them there from their room put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tight. It was the same one from the day before, the seemingly kindhearted one who wore rounded glasses on her dark face and put her hair up in a dreadlock bun. She smiled down at him. “Get up now, contestant sixteen. Your precious classmates are here!” The way she said classmates made his stomach twist in a way that made it even harder to stand up.

Which was saying something, because the sight in front of him was jarring enough.

The survivors were standing behind a glass wall that seemed to be one-sided. Behind it, each of their classmates were seated at a single long table, their expressions ranging in different ways. Momota had his arms crossed with an almost angry clench in his jaw, while Ouma had his arms wrapped tight around a small trash can. Chabashira was rubbing her fists into her eyes with a furious intensity. Yonaga smiled blankly at her folded hands. Amami and Iruma were side by side, the boy sitting calmly while the girl fidgeted relentlessly. Gokuhara dabbed at his eyes with a tissue handed to him by Toujou, and Hoshi stared the wall down evenly across from them. Even Shinguuji was stressed, it seemed, with his bored eyes set on the table.

...And Akamatsu held a tissue to her lip, to stop what seemed to be blood from running down her chin.

A wet sob choked from Saihara’s throat, and he held tight at his arms. Yumeno joined him on the floor a second later, another onslaught of tears making her whimper into her palms.

Harukawa took a step forward on shaking legs. “Momota?” She whispered, and the doctor patted her back.

“Go ahead and see them,” her voice was quiet. “You’ll only get a few minutes before it’s time to go.” The suspicious nature of the statement didn’t even register in their systems, the two on the floor stumbling to their feet and rushing towards the door a step behind Harukawa.

It crashed open, and all the attention turned to them.

It was like nothing had ever gone wrong, admittedly. Everyone was looking at them like they had come in late for breakfast. Toujou would tell them she saved them meals, Momota would say they should be on a better schedule, and Akamatsu would pat his seat that she had reserved for him and him only.

Ouma retched hard into his tiny trash bin, and reality crashed in. No one was speaking, and they all stared the three of them down like they were strangers.

They were strangers. God, they were strangers!

Saihara’s lip trembled, and he could feel fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t know the people in front of him, just like he didn’t know Harukawa or Yumeno or even himself. There’s no knowing people you’ve never met.

He made hard eye contact with Akamatsu, and hope blossomed in his chest. If he could get a smile, a single thing to show that she was the person he had met before... maybe then he could find it in himself to keep going. He could learn how to live again with all he had, just like he had started to before. If only she would let those amethyst eyes shine with life!

Akamatsu looked away, and his world went to static.

An unnoticed doctor broke the silence. “Ahem!” He coughed loudly, “Good morning everyone!” He gestured wide, brown hair a mop on his head. The smile pulled across his lips was too genuine for a poor excuse of a professional like him. “I would like to say, first of all, congratulations! To the winners, of course. To the losers too, but certainly to our winners!” He rambled before swinging around to gesture at the survivors. Then he turned back to address everyone as a whole again. “This season was very unsuccessful,” his voice went sour and blunt, “but us at Team Danganronpa have come up with an idea that actually got passed by the higher-ups!

“Due to your successes as individual characters - some of you were the highest on the polls yet! - we decided to create a new spin-off that will have our viewers screaming for more!”

Saihara wiped his tears away, now too confused to cry. “What do you mean by that?” He asked hoarsely.

“Hm? Oh, I’m glad you asked!” The doctor’s grin turned wicked, and the rooms atmosphere turned sour. He perched his hands on his hips and nodded to himself. “What sells more than angst?” He asked to no one, “why, it’s domestic angst! Teenagers killing each other is fine and dandy, but the love hotel events were loved by fans everywhere! All of the fujo-baiting Homo-romanticism! The yuri-bait in chapter one! Filthy killing game trash eat that up like its straight from Ruruka Ando’s candy shop!”

“Cut the shit!” Harukawa spat, standing defensively away from the table. She kept throwing glances towards Momota. “Just tell us straight out what you’re spewing.”

The doctor let his expression fall flat. “Ah,” he sighed. “It’s easy! Are you stupid? Of course I have to be talking about—“

“Reality TV,” a deadened voice cut in, and the tension rose impossibly high. Saihara felt a heavy rage take hold of him, and he spun his head around in tandem with Harukawa and Yumeno to see the single person he hated most in life. The one woman he would have no qualms about never laying eyes on again.

“You’re going to put us on reality TV,” Shirogane laughed weakly, a pale, human Kiibo holding hands with her. “Have you never heard of milking a series until it’s dry?”

And then there were sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is made of my tears (flunking math), my happiness (wrote oumota), and my grubby fingerprints (typed for hours)

**Author's Note:**

> the first couple of chapters are going to be kind of clunky but that will (probably) change as time goes on!
> 
> also, bc i said it would be in here in the tags: [my sideblog promo!!](https://k2-b0.tumblr.com/) i post some of my baby fics there & i rb a lot of danganronpa content!


End file.
